Chaos Risen (The Aspect Volume I Book 3)

Mark Holloway Chaos Risen Copyright © 2022 by Mark Holloway All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission. Mark Holloway asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work. First edition This book was professionally typeset on Reedsy Find out more at reedsy.com Chaos Risen is dedicated to you lot. Thank you. Contents Preface MAP I. PART 1 Flakes Voices in the Snow Rhyme and Rhetoric Butcher Blue Petals II. PART 2 Indolence Aspectors The Gift Forsaken Choices A New Mark III. PART 3 Vertigo Folly Lien The Whispers of a Petal IV. PART 4 The Hollow Heartbeats Echo A Promise, Sanguine Chrysalis Git In The Mist, You’ll Find Yourself V. PART 5 Secrets Between Friends Cowards Tender Risen The Aspector Flowers VI. PART 6 A Welcome Return To March Ribbons in the Snow The Hidden Delight in Slaughter Twenty Heartbeats VII. PART 7 Tithe Return Signs The Lure The Pull The Snap A New and Everlasting Covenant From the Author Appendix - Content Warnings Other Works Preface A note on content warnings - as an adult fantasy series, The Aspect features the usual types of content warnings that can usually go unsaid, things such as graphic depictions of violence, references to estrangement etc. For this reason, content warnings have not been highlighted in previous books. For this third book, there are two specific content warnings I wish to warn readers about. In the preface, I won’t specify where or why, but if you believe the below may be a trigger, you can find more details on where these points are in the plot in the appendix. If you have any concerns, reach out to me directly via instagram or goodreads. This book contains references self harm and suicide ideation. MAP I Part 1 Kehlem and Eva Flakes Feather down flurries drifted past the open window, the wind’s gusts occasionally sending snowflakes spiralling into the cold shack we were resting in. From where I lay on the rough mud floor, the sky above was traced with purple light, veins amongst the clouds, all emanating from a single location. Our destination. “You should drink something.” Eva was sitting across from me, the same concern still etched on her face as when she had picked me from my feet on the still standing bridge. I looked at her, wanting to say something, anything to break the silence I had held all morning long, but nothing would come. I shook my head gently, staring past her to the window once more. The thought of drinking - even just water - made me sick. My skin crawled and crackled with the fiery energy of the Aspect. I could feel it, an invisible current that pulled and pushed at my flesh, a warm, ever present wind despite the freezing temperatures outside. A whole body itch, the last stage before you furiously give in and scratch yourself raw and bloody for even a moment’s relief. It was all I could do not to peel skin from flesh and be done with it. On my temple, pulsing softly was the silvered mark Scarpi’s - or rather, Thain’s - lips had left on my skin, the only source of calm my world had, a tether to the world before. Before Broch had doomed us all. In my mind’s eyes, the scene replayed itself over and over. My friend, his flesh carved and ruined, his eyes haunted and dead. In his hands the realms of two worlds, breaking each other apart as they fell into one. “We should get going,” Eva said, her words small and quiet, her eyes searching my own. I knew she could feel it too, the wrongness in the air. I saw it in the way her eyes shifted, her fingers drifting to the soft goose flesh of her neck. She had no words for it, no way to understand it. And I knew all her concern was for me, but I had no words to offer her. I blinked out the after image of my friend, and took Eva’s hand as she pulled me to my feet. The road to Isale was quiet. An understatement. It was silent. Not a sound, besides myself and Eva’s breathing could be heard, no rustling from the treeline, no gentle water from the stream. The snow blanketed all, buffering the world into its dark, smothering embrace. We marched in that silence for hours until morning slid to afternoon, slid to twilight. At some point, Eva’s hand had slipped into my own, the feeling of her flesh a tonic to the unceasing throb of energy around me. My mind was a ship lost at storm, but as always Eva’s presence was a port. And so it was that I mustered words to speak, finally. “We should camp beneath the trees tonight. There’s no shelter for miles, and Isale is another day away.” Eva said nothing in response, probably hoping not to startle the silence back into me, but her hand gave her away, squeezing mine response, equally desperate for reassurance. We left the path for the cover of the pines and fir, retreating beneath their fractal arms. The snow on the ground was thinner here, protected as we were by the canopy, although occasionally the weight would become too much, and the soft thwomp of snow falling in a heavy clump could be heard. We found a likely spot where the canopy was thin enough to not risk burying us alive in snow, but thick enough to block the worst of the weather, and lay our packs down for the evening. Eva collected the few dry twigs she could find and lit us a measly fire, and I